


Sweater Puppies

by tchallabread (courtneylovedcobain)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Party, Groping, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Motorboating, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 00:51:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtneylovedcobain/pseuds/tchallabread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky fixates on Steve's tits. Featuring lewd Christmas sweaters and surprise underthings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Puppies

Bucky is fucking sweating. He’s not just sweating, he’s fucking _sweating_.

This was Bucky’s idea so he could hardly complain. In fact, he was still pumped about his sweater, a cord-knit monstrosity with a reindeer fucking a reindeer, fucking another reindeer. It was big and warm and ugly and he’d been wearing it since October when he found it at Savers.

But that wasn’t Bucky’s problem. _Steve’s_ sweater was his problem. Steve’s sweater was what was probably giving him pit stains down to his fucking belt. Not to say that Steve in sweaters was a problem, necessarily. On the contrary, Steve in sweaters could probably bring about world peace.

Steve fought him every step of the way, vetoing Bucky’s brilliant finds like the sweater with two ornaments, “BALLS” loudly plastered below them or the sweater of a sweater with gratuitous cleavage popping out.

In the end, Bucky had convinced Steve to wear a red sweater with “MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMAL” emblazoned across his very impressive chest. The same chest that Bucky had been struggling not to ogle for the last hour and a half.

Bucky had faced down Nazis, terrorists, and his own death, sometimes all at once, and never had he lost his chill as thoroughly as he had now, confronted with Steve and his fucking sweater puppies.

Steve’s sweater was a size too small because Steve didn’t know a goddamn thing about buying clothes that fit properly. A too-small _v-neck_ sweater, for god’s sake.

Maybe not going with the titty sweater had been a good move because the way Steve’s sweater was clinging to his goddamn pecs was gonna make Bucky’s brains explode.

They were down at Sam’s little party for the VA and fortunately for Bucky, a scowling man hiding in the corner and avoiding conversation wasn’t very unusual down here. Sam was helping run the raffle table, looking precious in his Black Santa sweater, leaving Steve to make small talk with some of the other vets.

Bucky had forgone the spot near the wall with the best view of the room’s occupants and exits in favor of the spot that gave him the best unobstructed view of Steve, Steve’s chest, and Steve’s very clingy, very small sweater. It could be better though. The woman he was talking to liked to gesticulate a lot and her hands were a little closer to Steve’s person than Bucky was comfortable with.

Bucky kept tugging on his own collar, trying to cool his blood a bit. It was as though Steve was reading his thoughts though. The woman must’ve said something uproarious because Steve was throwing his head back and laughing, chest puffed out and sweet jesus, Steve wasn’t wearing anything under the sweater. He forgot that Steve had gone without an undershirt.

Cleavage. Just one tasteful, glorious line of cleavage peeking at Bucky from that v-neck before Steve was righting himself. Is it still called cleavage if it’s on a man? Goddamn, Bucky was gonna bust a nut or have a nosebleed or both.

Bucky sat there contemplating how Steve’s nipples must be chafing under that scratchy sweater when Steve made his way over to him.

“I see someone having absolutely no fun at all,” Steve said cheerfully.

Bucky grunted, nobly raising his eyes from Steve’s nipples to his face.

“You know there’s mistletoe by the entrance,” Steve said quietly as he eased closer. “We could go kill some time under it.”

“I missed a lot while I was deep frozen for 70 years. There any newfangled holiday plants that’ll let me motorboat your tits?”

If he lived a thousand years, Bucky would never forget the gobsmacked look on Steve’s face. He would also never forget the look that followed it, as Bucky was on the receiving end of that raised eyebrow and unimpressed expression at least forty times a day.

“You wanna try that again?” Steve deadpanned.

Bucky pretended to think. “Nope.”

Steve just stared at him.

“C’mon,” Bucky goaded, moving in to Steve’s space. “Call it an early Christmas present.” Sliding his hands up Steve’s chest, Bucky proceeded to grope Steve’s very generous tits.

“Have you been drinking?”

“Sure have, sport. But I promise I would still wanna fuck your tits sober,” Bucky assured him.

Steve slapped his hands away. “You are the biggest dick I’ve ever met.”

“Can you guess where this dick wants to put his dick?”

“Why don’t you shove it up the vacuum tube, asshole.”

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Bucky drawled, smiling rakishly up at Steve. He knew exactly how much Steve hated those words. Sure enough, Steve bristled. “I ain’t just dicking around, Steve. Those tits of yours have been ruining my life.”

“Is that what you’ve been… glaring at all night?”

“ _Leering_ ,” Bucky corrected. “I was leering at them.” He then proceeded to shove his hands up Steve’s sweater.

Steve rolled his eyes and let himself be groped for a minute, which is 60 seconds longer than Bucky thought he was going to get away with since they were in public. He didn’t mean to, but for a while, Bucky forgot there was anything north of Steve’s collarbones. He thumbed at Steve’s nipples for a while, feeling one stiffen under his flesh hand and knowing the other was tight and sensitive under his metal hand.

Bucky definitely lost some time as he watched the swell at the top of Steve’s tits as he shoved them together.

“Oh my god,” Bucky rasped.

“Bucky,” Steve said flatly and oh-ho, Steve could make all the unimpressed face he wanted but here they were. Approaching the two minute mark, and he was still letting Bucky grope him. A true Christmas miracle. “You got a little…” he gestured at the corner of his mouth and, yep, there it is. Bucky was actually drooling on himself.

“Bathroom. Now,” Bucky snapped, whipping his shoulder against the drool on his face. “This is gonna get way more inappropriate soon.”

Steve rolled his eyes but let Bucky drag him into the hallway by the hand. “Touching as this is, I’d rather not get felt up in VA bathroom of all places, Buck.”

“Well the apartment is a twenty minute cab ride away and your tits are already here,” Bucky said. “Sorry but I don’t make the rules.”

The bathroom was blessedly empty when Bucky kicked the door open with way more force than was necessary. The door hadn’t even fully shut when Bucky was yanking Steve’s sweater over his head.

“Bucky!” Steve said indignantly, head tangled in his sweater. Apparently Bucky had gotten all that he needed though because he left the sweater where it was around Steve’s head before proceeding to go at his tits.

Steve cussed a bit before tearing the sweater off his head. “What’s gotten into you? This definitely isn’t the first time you’ve seen my chest.”

“I live in a constant state of trying not to jump your bones,” Bucky said distractedly. His voice was muffled where his face was buried between Steve’s tits. “Have you seen you in that uniform? Or running? Or, you know, breathing? _Jesus_.”

Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky manhandled him. “You know, we could just go home so I can give you your actual Christmas present.”

“Got all I need right here, doll.”

“I don’t know about that,” Steve said innocently.

Bucky looked up from where he was very enthusiastically motorboating his boyfriend’s pecs.

Steve raised an eyebrow and stuck a thumb into the waistband of his jeans. Bucky peered down.

"Is that—?"

Satin. Just a hint of it satin resting under Steve’s hipbone.

Bucky’s head shot up. “Get dressed. Get dressed now, we’re going.”

Steve laughed as Bucky bullied him out the door.

 

 

 

Later, while they were lying in bed, sheets upended and clothes everywhere, Bucky lit up a cigarette.

“I’m the luckiest son of a bitch ever. Merry Christmas to me,” Bucky said, the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

Steve blew a raspberry against his collarbone before leaning up to take a drag from Bucky’s cigarette. “Take it easy there, Jewish McHamentashen,” Steve teased. “Lucky thing that I decided to buy the whole set instead of just the panties.”

“Best boyfriend ever,” Bucky agreed.

Steve kissed at Bucky’s neck, making his way up Bucky’s stubbly jaw before reaching his mouth. They made out languidly for a while as the last dredges of the cigarette burned down.

“You know,” Steve said against Bucky’s mouth. “Not to ruin the surprise but I might have bought a corset, too.”

Bucky abruptly sat up, scrambled off the bed, and swung Steve over his shoulder. “We’re doing gifts now!” He smacked Steve’s ass for emphasis. Steve just laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> I regret so much. Join me on [tumblr](http://courtneylovedcobain.tumblr.com/) where I get emotional about Steve's ass and Bucky's thighs.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sweater Puppies (podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332972) by [boscaresque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boscaresque/pseuds/boscaresque)




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